


What a bright time (it's the right time)

by tinnie



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, bughead as teachers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:46:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22549546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinnie/pseuds/tinnie
Summary: When Kevin tells Betty he can't help her organize the annual Riverdale Elementary Christmas market, it sends her into a wave of panic. Thankfully though, he's already found a replacement for himself. Jughead Jones. The new young teacher Betty has been crushing on for months. Will she be able to keep her feelings to herself or will sparks fly among the tinsel and Christmas cookies?
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones, Minor Veronica Lodge/Archie Andrews
Comments: 52
Kudos: 145
Collections: 7th Bughead Fanfiction Awards - Nominees





	What a bright time (it's the right time)

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas everyone!  
> I know, it's February 3rd, but I really did try. It's not my fault the story kept growing and growing. I blame Bughead for being adorable and taking their time. But I'll make sure that any future Christmas stories I may want to write better be started in October so I have at least a slight chance to post them during Christmas time.  
> But don't let me hold you up any longer. I hope you enjoy this seasonally inappropriate fic just as much as you would if it was December.  
> Big thank you to @oryoucouldstay for fixing my mistakes and for a cute graphic and title idea. (will I ever come up with my own titles?)

**December 10 th**

“Kevin! What do you mean you can't help me organize the Christmas market? It's less than two weeks away. You can't ditch me now!” Betty feels panic raise in her chest. This is the first year she’s been put in charge of the annual Riverdale Elementary Christmas market after Mrs. White, who’d been organizing it for the past twenty years, retired a couple of months earlier. For all her careful planning though, she’s found herself behind schedule.

“Fangs's Christmas play is falling apart. He needs my help. Besides, I'm not ditching you. I got you a replacement for myself. Not as fabulous as me, of course, but I’m sure you'll be happy about it.” Kevin gives her a mischievous grin that makes her stomach clench. While Kevin has become one of her closest friends since she moved to Riverdale, she doesn’t really trust his judgment on certain things.

“A replacement? Who?” She really hopes he doesn’t mean Dilton or any other guy from his D&D club. They all have a weird obsession with asking her to be their princess. Whatever that means.

“Jughead Jones.”

“Jugh- oh.” Betty's face flushes instantly at the mention of his name.

The young teacher had only joined the Riverdale Elementary at the beginning of the school year, replacing Archie as the fourth grade teacher after he had gone on paternity leave. And while it has only been a few short months and not nearly enough interaction between him and Betty, she has been nursing a secret - or not so secret -based on Kevin's grin, crush on him.

She wants to berate Kevin for this idea and question him about how he managed to get Jughead take over his role, but before she has a chance to do that, there is a light knock on the door of the teachers’ lounge and a beanie-clad head pops in.

“Oh, there he is. Perfect timing. I’ll leave you two to it.” With a quick goodbye, Kevin hurries out of the room but not before showing her an obscene gesture from behind Jughead’s back suggesting what he hopes they’ll get up to instead of organizing the Christmas market. She really needs less embarrassing friends.

“Kevin has just told me you’re my newly appointed helper,” Betty says with a smile, hoping her voice doesn’t betray the nervousness she’s feeling. She knows it’s silly, but the way her stomach flutters, she may as well be thirteen again and made to work on a project with a boy she has a crush on.

“I know I seem more like a Grinch than an elf, but I promise I’m not here to ruin Christmas.” Jughead grins, stepping further into the room, his eyes scanning over the endless amount of boxes full of Christmas ornaments that she’s spread out. For all her event organization skills, Mrs. White was terrible at labelling her stuff.

“I never thought you were,” Betty says with a chuckle. It’s true that Jughead doesn’t strike her as someone who would willingly spend hours going around the school and pinning tinsel to every possible surface, but she knows better than to judge people based on their appearance. “But still, what did Kevin have to do to get you to do this?”

“Your friend has some pretty strong persuasion skills.” Jughead smirks and Betty knows just what he means. It’s scary how easily Kevin can sometimes make people do what he wants them to. “But he also said something about… cookies?”

A laugh breaks from her lips. _Of course._ “Hmm…” she hums as she pulls out a long string of tinsel out of one of the boxes and loosely wraps it around Jughead’s neck. “Are you sure all this Christmas extravaganza is worth some cookies?” she asks, her tone as serious as she can muster.

He holds her gaze for a moment before quirking a brief smile. “Oh, Betty, you clearly don’t know me well enough.”

“Well then,” she says, stepping away from him but not breaking the eye contact. “I can’t wait to change that.”

* * *

“Okay, your turn,” Betty says as she rummages through another box, desperately trying to find the bottom half of a Santa figurine. _Who splits one Santa into multiple boxes?_

“Hmm, let me think for a second,” Jughead says, trying to separate what seems to be five different Christmas lights tangled up in one big ball.

They're in the middle of an unspoken game of twenty questions. So far what she’s found out about him is, that his favorite color is green, he'll eat literally anything and if he wasn't a teacher, he'd be an author of mystery novels. Something he may or may not still be attempting to do.

They both love literature and old movies, especially horrors and Betty is starting to wonder whether soulmates actually exist. She doesn't run that thought by him, though he admits he loves conspiracy theories so maybe he would have something to say about it.

“Why Riverdale?” he asks as his next question, a triumphant smile on his face as one string of the lights finally comes free.

She’s already revealed that unlike most of their colleagues, or even most people living in the town, she wasn’t born there, only moving to the small quiet town after college. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that? You’ve been here for like what? Six months?”

“Fair point. But I come from a small town, went to community college, there is no surprise in me moving somewhere that’s just like that but better. But you went to NYU. Most people would probably try to stay in the city no matter what,” he says and she knows it’s true. It just doesn’t apply to her.

“I’m not most people.” Betty grins, the words cheesy but not untrue. “I’m from a small town just like this and in those four years I spent there, I realized the big city just isn’t for me.” She shrugs. It took her a while to stop fighting with the idea that she could make herself love the city if only she tried enough. “So when my two best friends, Archie, who was born and raised here and Veronica, a New York City native who married the simple boy next door, decided to move here together, I thought, why not join them? It feels like home, except far away from my parents. Which makes it so much better.”

“Ah, complicated family relationships. I get that,” he says, but doesn’t elaborate, instead focusing on the lights in his hands.

“My turn now,” Betty says hoping to change the topic to something more positive. She’s not sure about Jughead, but discussing the difficult situation with her family is not the best way to get her into the Christmas spirit and she won’t let them ruin her mood from far away. “What's your favorite food?” she asks after a moment of pondering.

“Now that's a question I like.” A wide smile spreads across Jughead’s face as he starts raving about burgers, milkshakes and fries and Betty wonders when talking about fastfood became so sexy. Or maybe that’s just a Jughead thing. Definitely a Jughead thing.

**December 13 th**

Being late is not something that Betty Cooper does. Ever. It's been drilled to her head by her mother that being early is being on time and being on time is being late. And as much as she tries to rebel against her mother in the smallest of things, especially things Alice will never even know about, being punctual is something that's in her blood now and she can't fight against it. 

Of course, decorating the teachers’ lounge room is something she decided to do of her own free will, it shouldn’t be a big deal if she’s a few minutes late for that. But since Jughead promised to help her out, the last thing she wants is to keep him waiting and make him think she left all the work to him.

She silently curses vice principal Muggs for choosing today to randomly stop her and talk her ear off for fifteen minutes. Not that she ever wants to spend so much time listening to her talk about the benefits of using essential oils in the classroom.

By the time Betty reaches the teachers’ lounge, she's probably more than fashionably late, but she decides to leave her negativity outside the door and take a few deep breaths. Maybe she shouldn’t have fought Ethel when she tried to put some lavender oil on her wrist. Well, it’s too late now.

Just as she’s about to storm inside the lounge room and spout her apologies at Jughead, she notices the door is left ajar, quiet tunes of Jingle Bell Rock pouring out and... _No, that can't be right. No way..._

As quietly as possible she moves closer to the door peering inside, unable to believe her eyes or ears.

Inside the room, Jughead Jones, the person who refuses to sing along to happy birthday for their co-workers, claiming he’d ruin the whole thing, is swaying his hips to the rhythm of the song, singing along Bobby Helms. And it’s good. It’s cute, It’s... something she needs to capture on video.

Quickly and without hesitation, she pulls out her phone and hits record, trying to stay silent as not to alert Jughead of her presence. Whatever guilt she’s feeling about spying on him like this is momentarily pushed away by her amazement.

As all good things, even this moment comes to an end the second Jughead does a little twirl and their eyes meet, both of them looking like they could compete for who makes a better deer in the headlights impression.

Betty’s the first one to recover though, quickly stopping the recording and putting a bright smile on her face. “Hey,” she chirps, hoping that if she can pretend she hasn’t just caught Jughead bopping along to the Christmas classics, they can both act like it didn’t happen. And then at home she can replay the video over and over again.

“How... how long have you been standing there?” he asks as he regains his senses.

“Umm...” Betty blinks rapidly, trying to think of the best and believable lie. Needless to say, it’s not going well.

“Wait, were you...” Jughead’s gaze slides towards the phone in her hand, his face turning crimson.

“N-no,” she stutters. Betty Cooper is a lot of things. A good liar is not one of them.

Thankfully, what she is, is a fast thinker and quick on her feet so the moment she sees Jughead approaching her with the obvious intention of taking her phone and deleting the incriminating evidence she darts in the opposite direction.

Not wasting a single second, he dashes after her.

It's a small room but she's quick, weaving her way in between the chairs, moving them just enough to create obstacles for him. She’s not sure what the end goal is here, because as fit as she is, there is only so long she can run around the room. Giving up without a fight, however, is not an option.

It quickly becomes obvious that unlike her, Jughead isn’t used to running. But where he can’t match her in speed he can make up for in quick thinking and good reflexes. She has no idea how it happens when he suddenly materializes in front of her, too late for her to change her direction as their bodies collide with a thump.

“Gotcha.” He smirks his arms wrapping around her and pulls her against his chest. But the tight embrace is not the reason she suddenly can’t breathe. Well, at least technically speaking.

“Betts,” he says, the nickname that only he uses for her and the press of his body against hers making her heart pound impossibly fast. She wonders whether he can feel it. Not sure if she wants him to.

“Yeah?” She lets out a shaky breath, the sheer intensity of his gaze makes her forget why they're even there.

“Give me that phone.” There is something about the way he says it, his tone so low, firm and sexy, that it almost makes her cave and do whatever he asks without thinking. Thankfully though, she’s able to come to her senses enough to avoid doing that.

“No,” she says firmly.

He sighs, but doesn’t look surprised at all. “I really didn’t want to play dirty here but…” he trails off and before Betty has a chance to figure out what he’s talking about, he slides his hand from her back to her sides, his fingers quickly finding just the right spot to press to make her keel over in uncontrollable laughter.

“No, no,” she squeals, trying to get away from him and not let go of the phone at the same time, which seems almost impossible. Serves her right for revealing that being ticklish is her ultimate weakness. However three days ago she could’ve hardly expected a scenario where Jughead would get to use it against her.

“It’s simple, Betty, just agree to get rid of the evidence,” he says with a smirk, clearly satisfied with himself for gaining the upper hand.

“Okay, okay, I’ll delete it,” she says between shrieks of laughter. She knew this fight would be pointless the moment it started, but she couldn’t give up without at least trying. “But I have one condition.”

He quirks his eyebrow at her, his hands still placed firmly on her waist, ready to attack if she tries to escape him. Something she considered only briefly. “I’m listening.”

“Dance with me,” Betty says, not sure what she expects him to do, but trying anyway.

His dissatisfied grunt is enough to tell her he doesn’t like the idea. “Really? Can’t you come up with anything better you want from me?”

 _Well, I could think of a few things._ She thinks, but knows that’s not something to ask for in a situation like this. So instead she grins and shakes her head. “Nope. I feel like dancing. And I think you have quite the moves,” she teases, swaying her hips.

He rolls his eyes, but Betty notices the corner of his lips twitching slightly as she compliments him.

“Okay. But only for you, Betty Cooper,” he says finally, a nervous smile playing on his lips. “And if you ever tell anyone about this...”

“You'll what? Kill me?” she asks with a smirk.

“And you said I was dramatic.” He laughs, shaking his head. “I was thinking more in the line of taking over my lunch duty on the next pizza day.”

Betty's face scrunches up at the memory of the last pizza day when a student who stuffed himself with five slices threw up right in front of her. The thought of it still makes her shudder. “I promise no one will ever know,” she says, pretending to lock her lips and throw away the key.

As if on cue, the previous song finishes and the first notes of Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree start playing.

“I love this song!” Betty exclaims, swinging her hips and singing along to the song while she waves her hand, beckoning Jughead to join her.

He acts a bit shy at first, nodding his head to the rhythm, but barely moving his legs or hips and if Betty didn’t see him dancing just a few minutes ago, maybe she’d let it slide. But since she did, she can’t let him get away with this poor excuse for a dance.

“C’mon, Jones, you can do better than this,” she says, taking his hands and placing them on her hips. It’s a risky move, since her heart is already beating like crazy due to everything that’s happened in the past few minutes, but she thinks she may as well seize the opportunity to have fun. “Show me what you’ve got.”

It takes about half a song for Jughead to start doing something Betty can even consider calling a dance, but soon enough, he’s twirling her around the room, both of them laughing at their uncoordinated moves and out of tune singing.

“I think it was a worthy trade off,” Betty says as the song ends, her ponytail slightly askew, face shining with happiness. “If you want, you can do the honors of deleting it yourself.” She brings up the video on her phone and hands it to him.

Jughead takes it from her, but his fingers hover over the screen for a moment before he locks the screen and gives it back to her with a shake of his head. “You can keep the video. Just don't show it to anyone.”

“Really?” Betty looks at him with surprise and he nods. “It’s like Christmas came early, thank you!” She squeals and in a wave of excitement presses a kiss to his cheek.

When she pulls away, realizing what she’s done, her face instantly turns red, but his mimic is just the same and that makes her feel a little better.

“Now c'mon, let's add some Christmas spirit to this room,” she says, quickly changing the topic as she hurries towards the boxes of ornaments. Because of all the singing and dancing she almost forgot about their plan to decorate the teachers’ lounge.

“I’m on it,” Jughead says, scrambling towards the boxes as well, but for the rest of the afternoon he keeps a safe distance.

Betty’s not sure if it’s intentional, but she thinks it may be for the better anyway. If she keeps getting distracted by him, they’ll never get any of this done on time. And being late is not something that Betty Cooper does. Ever.

**December 17 th**

“Fuck!” Betty curses as a wire sticking out of the Christmas wreath she’s been trying to hang up over one of the windows scrapes the skin of her thumb, sending a sudden sharp pain through her finger.

“I don’t think that word belongs to school, Miss Cooper,” a stern voice with a hint of amusement says behind her, startling her.

She whips her head around to see a smirking Jughead looking up at her and wants to berate him for scaring her when the quick movement makes her foot slip off the ladder. Luckily, before she can tumble down and embarrass herself in the best case or break her neck in the worst case, a pair of strong hands grip her hips.

“Woah, careful,” Jughead says, helping her off the ladder, only pulling his hands away once she’s stable on her feet again. Though stable is a relative term as his fingers leave a burning trail on her skin where her shirt has ridden up and the feeling almost makes her knees buckle.

“Thanks,” she whispers, her face matching her Christmas sweater. It’s one of the more simple ones, red with tiny white snowflakes. She’s keeping the proper ugly one for the Christmas market.

“I was worried you weren’t gonna come,” the words leave her lips before she can stop herself. It’s been less than a week, but the few hours after school lets out for the day that they spend going around the school, hanging up posters and decorations or rummaging through boxes and trying to salvage whatever is left from last year have quickly become her favorite part of the day.

“Sorry ‘bout that. I was packing up all the stuff my pupils made for the Christmas market today,” he says, pointing towards the big box he put down upon arrival. “They may have gone a bit overboard with their crafting.”

“Ohh, can I see?” Betty claps her hands in excitement. Seeing what the pupils created to sell to their parents and teachers who come to the market has been her favorite part of organizing the event so far. Each class has had completely different and unique ideas.

“Of course,” Jughead says, the proud look on his face making her even more curious. “Some of it is a little unconventional but I try not to limit the kids’ creativity.”

With her interest piqued, Betty walks over to the box, looking inside. As Jughead said, the kids have really outdone themselves with 3D Christmas cards and shiny ornaments and…

“Really? Reindeer poop?” She quirks her eyebrow at him as she reads the sparkle covered card attached to the top of a little plastic bag filled with tiny chocolate chips.

“There is also snowman poop,” he says proudly, digging up a bag with tiny marshmallows. “They’re nine, they think it’s the most hilarious thing ever.”

“Well it is quite funny.” Betty chuckles putting the bag of “reindeer poop” back inside the box. She didn’t expect Jughead to go as all in as he has, but he seems at least as excited as she is about making Christmas special for their pupils. If she wasn’t crushing on him before, she definitely would be now.

“What’s this?” he asks as he walks up towards a table where she’d spread out three little Tupperware containers.

“Oh, that’s a taste batch of some cookies I made. I’m trying to decide which one to make to decorate with the kids and I need your expert opinion,” she says, opening each of the containers. “We have gingerbread cookies, a Christmas must, sugar cookies, a simple classic, and snickerdoodles, delicious, but not the best for decorating purposes.” She points at each little pile, wondering whether Jughead will judge her for her nerdiness. Her perfectionist tendencies don’t die down when it comes to Christmas baking. They only intensify.

When she looks at Jughead though, he seems like he’s about to salivate all over them. Strange as that may be, she knows it’s a compliment.

“C’mon, try them,” she prompts him, eager to hear what he thinks. “I need you to help me decide.”

Not wasting even a second, he grabs one from each container, slowly chewing them with a look of concentration she’s never seen on someone while eating.

The satisfied sounds that leave his throat make her blush, imagining what else she could do to coax it out of him again. She quickly chastises herself for those thoughts. _What is wrong with me?_

“Do you like them?” she asks, not wanting to be presumptuous, even though he made it pretty obvious.

“They’re fucking fantastic,” he says with an enthusiastic nod, and she wants to be the one to berate him for his choice of words this time, but then he licks his lips for any stray crumbs and she loses her train of thoughts. Again.

“How are you not married yet?” Clearly regretting the question the moment he asks it, he presses his hand to his mouth, his face turning red. “I’m sorry. It’s not my place to ask. Or anyone’s really.”

Betty doesn’t mind though. She knows it’s not a mean spirited question coming from him. Unlike when her mother asks it. In fact, it sounded more like a compliment and in a sudden boost of confidence she almost wants to ask: “Are you volunteering?” Thankfully she pushes that idea aside before she has a chance to embarrass herself.

“It’s okay.” She lets out a small giggle, letting him know she’s not offended. Should she be? She never quite understood why people would make a big deal out of a woman in her mid-twenties not being married. Or even dating anyone. “But I think it takes a little more than some cookies to find a husband.”

“Some men are way too high maintenance,” Jughead mutters. “I mean, not that your worth is measured by the quality of the cookies. There are like million other reasons someone should want to marry you. And not that you’re required to get married just to please the society. If you do that it should be because you really want to. But obviously you don’t need me to mansplain the feminist take on marriage to you. I’m an idiot. I’ll stop talking now,” he finishes, stuffing another of the cookies into his mouth and avoiding her gaze.

Betty watches him with an amused look on her face, bottom lip caught between her teeth to stop her from laughing. She’s never seen him so flustered. Didn’t think it was possible. He's always so calm and collected with the kids, snappy and sarcastic with the adults that annoy him. But she's never seen him stumble over his words in such an adorable way. Because yes, of course she finds it endearing. How could she not?

“Jug,” she says, placing her hand on his shoulder, “it’s fine. Honestly. And I’m glad you like the cookies. But I really need you to tell me which ones to make for the kids to decorate.”

He ponders her question for a second, chewing slowly and dragging his gaze over all three containers as if it’s the most important decision he would ever make.

“The gingerbread ones,” he says finally. “They taste like Christmas.”

**December 21st**

The last Saturday before Christmas, the day of the long awaited Christmas market, rolls around faster than Betty could’ve anticipated. Thanks to Jughead’s help though, everything is in place and ready as the students of Riverdale Elementary and their various family members start arriving.

Betty bounces around the gym where majority of the stands are, her ponytail bobbing up and down. To show her excitement, she tried to make it extremely perky today, complete with a red sparkling bow wrapped around the base. It may be a little over the top but she has already received several compliments from the kids from her class and their opinion is the only one that matters to her. Well, maybe not _the only_ one, but she won’t put much weight on the opinion of someone who wears just a slightly different variation of the same outfit every day. No matter how cute he looks in it.

She sees him then, striding right towards her and her heart does a little flutter. It’s been becoming more frequent the more she gets to know him. Still, a little frown forms on her face as she takes him in, because unlike her he isn't wearing a Christmas sweater. Not even a boring subtle one. Instead, he’s dressed in his usual outfit of T-shirt and a flannel. Cute, but definitely not Christmassy.

“Where is your festive outfit?” Betty asks instead of greeting once he gets close enough.

“Right here.” Jughead points to himself, though she doesn’t see anything that would differ too much from his usual outfit. His flannel may look newer and like he actually ironed it, but there are no Christmas prints, no sequins, not even an ironic Christmas related quote. “Red and green are Christmas colors, right?”

“Yeah, but…” She wants to scold him for not following a simple instruction of “Wear something Christmassy” but how could she when she sees a little mischievous smile on his lips. The same lips she’s spent way too much time thinking about. _Focus, Betty!_

“Wait, there is one more thing.” He holds up his hand and pulls off the beanie that has adorned his head every moment she has ever seen him. Running his hand through his dark locks, Betty has to try hard to keep herself from reaching out to try to touch it. However, before she can admire his hair for too long, he pulls out a Santa hat from his pocket and replaces the beanie with it.

“It doesn't get more festive than that, right?” He gives her a satisfied grin because both of them know she can’t argue with that. _Cheeky bastard._

“Okay, fine, you pass.” Betty shakes her head, unable to keep her amused smile contained. “But just so you know, you’re ruining the tradition of the teachers wearing cheesy Christmas sweaters.”

“Christmas sweaters are not really my thing. I like yours though,” he says, pointing to the 3D Christmas tree glued to the front of her sweater, complete with bits of tinsel and flashing lights. “It’s very… classy.”

“Thanks.” She grins at him, pretending not to notice his teasing tone. He won’t be the one laughing when she wins the best Christmas sweater competition. “You should see the one I wear to adult Christmas parties though.”

“Are there adult Christmas parties I should know about?” Jughead quirks his eyebrow, looking genuinely curious.

“Maybe,” Betty says with a teasing smile. “But they’re only for people who can really commit to the theme.”

“Touché, Betts, touché.” He grins, but before Betty can come up with a reply, they hear an excited yell.

“Miss Cooper, Miss Cooper!” A little girl in pigtails and a snowflake patterned sweater barrels towards them, pulling her mother behind her. “My mommy wants to see the cookies we made. Can we show her, please?” The girl is bouncing on her feet, eager to show her mother her creation and Betty finds her lips tugging into a huge smile. There is nothing as contagious as kids’ excitement.

“Of course, sweetheart, that’s why we made them,” Betty says and with a wave of her hand asks them to follow her to a nearby stand where all the cookies the kids helped to decorate as well as some of her own are displayed.

There is a lot of excited pointing and praising, from the daughter and mother respectively, and a few moments later the duo is leaving with a paper bag full of cookies.

“I guess I should buy some of my own before the word gets around how amazing they are and everyone will rush to get them,” Jughead says as they watch them leave.

“Actually,” Betty says before pulling out a plastic container from where she hid it earlier that day. “I saved some especially for you. And I also made one that’s a little special,” she says, suddenly feeling a little bashful as she reveals her creation to him.

“Is that… is that me?” he asks, pointing towards the cookie and she wonders whether it’s a rhetorical question or whether the gingerbread man with a strange grey blob on his head really is unrecognizable.

“Yeah.” That’s all she manages to say, her cheeks flushing red. He must think she's some sort of weirdo, making look alike cookies of her co-workers like a festive version of voodoo dolls. It sounded like a much better idea back when she was delusional from the endless baking. Why didn't she realize how creepy that must look until now?

“This is amazing!” Jughead exclaims, taking her out of her thoughts as he carefully picks up the cookie to take a closer look at it. “Are those my suspenders?” he asks in bewilderment. “And the pins on my hat?

“Yeah. You like it?” she asks, still a little hesitant about what his feelings really are. Jughead has shared his love for true crime and serial killers with her, so she’s not sure whether his apparent excitement relates to the cookie itself or whether he’s just figured out she’s so messed up she’s bound to do something crazy like try to bake her pupils like cookies, Hansel and Gretel style.

“Of course I do! But…” he trails off and Betty supposes this is when he calls her out on being a creep. “Would it offensive if I ate it? Or cannibalistic? Because I’ve been dying to eat those cookies again and there is something weirdly appealing about chomping my own head off.”

Betty laughs, her worries melting away in an instant. “Go for it. I may have massacred a few Jugheads before getting this one right,” she admits sheepishly. “But they were pretty delicious if I can say so myself.”

“I bet.” Jughead grins and takes a big bite of the cookie. This time, thankfully, he manages to hold back on any sinful noises, but his eyes still sparkle with delight. “It’s fantastic, really,” he says as he devours half of the giant cookie and she gives him a bright smile. Maybe it was a good idea after all.

“It’s so nice to see my pupils and not be the one responsible for them,” Betty says after a moment as more and more kids start pouring in, pulling their parents along, eager to show them how they contributed to the Christmas market.

Jughead nods, swallowing the rest of the Jughead shaped cookie. “As much as I love those little rascals, it feels nice when I don’t have to constantly keep count of them to make sure none of them is about to split their tiny skull open on my watch.”

“Morbid but relatable.” Betty giggles.

“I guess I should head over to my stand,” Jughead says, pointing to a table a few feet away from Betty’s where big thermoses full of hot chocolate as well as various toppings are already waiting.

“Gotta keep the kids doped on sugar while they’re out of our hands?” Betty asks with a smirk.

“Yep.” He nods vigorously, the ball at the end of his Santa hat bobbing up and down. “Payback to the parents who let their kids have their Halloween candy for breakfast the next morning.”

“Well, good luck. I’ll see you around.” Betty smiles and with a salute and a box of cookies under his arm, Jughead moves over to his station, a few kids with their relatives rushing towards him the moment they see him.

Betty totally gets them. She knows she’ll be stopping by for some hot chocolate later. And not just because of her sweet tooth.

* * *

As it turns out, Jughead was right about the word getting around about her cookies, because just over an hour later, everything she baked has been sold out, except for a few pieces she put aside for her best friends. Thankfully, that gave her the opportunity to talk to them once they arrived without having to attend to customers in between. The hastily scrawled “sold out” sign is enough to turn them away with disappointment on their faces and Betty tries not to feel guilty for not expecting the high demand and taking some extra hours off her sleep to bake more.

“B, you need to teach me how to make these. I don't wanna be the mom who can't even bake cookies with her kids,” Veronica says as she nibbles on one of Betty’s cookies. She’s been saying some version of this sentence since she first tasted the cookies their freshman year of college, but it is yet to happen.

“I tried to teach you, remember? And they almost had to evacuate the whole dormitory because you set off the fire alarm,” Betty reminds her. It’s not the best memory from their college years, but definitely one of the most memorable ones.

“I was just a dumb college kid then. I was reckless. But I'm a mom now. I'm responsible, right Archiekins?” she asks, turning towards her husband who nods his head.

“She did learn how to make pasta. And makes baby food for Freddie all the time,” Archie says. “Even though he hates it.”

“It’s not my fault that babies don’t like boiled vegetables,” Veronica defends herself, throwing daggers at Archie. “And it’s not like he likes what you make any better.”

“Okay, okay, I'll consider it,” Betty says, hoping to put a stop to her friends’ bickering over baby food. “But I won't let you use my kitchen. I value my house too much.”

“Deal!” Veronica squeals out, looking unusually excited about the prospect of some baking lessons. “I promise I’ll repay you. We can do a spa day. Or mani-pedi. Or…” Veronica taps her finger against her chin with a mischievous grin. “I could set you up on a date with someone.”

Betty rolls her eyes at the last suggestion. She loves her best friend and whole heartedly supports her own choice of husband, but the few times she tried to set Betty up with someone, she grossly misjudged their character.

“Ohh, it seems like I don’t even need to go far to find someone. Who’s the hipster Santa making eyes at you from over there?” Veronica wiggles her eyebrows and nods her head towards where Jughead is pouring some hot chocolate to an excited second grader, not at all looking their direction. Much to Betty’s disappointment, Veronica must be imagining things. But as if sensing their stares, Jughead looks up, sending them a tiny smile that almost makes Betty’s knees buckle.

“It’s Archie’s replacement,” she says, quickly tearing her eyes away from him before Veronica can notice the reaction his smile had on her. She wouldn’t hear the end of it. “The new fourth grade teacher.”

“Fortyse or something like that,” Archie mumbles with his mouth full of cookies, carefully holding a hand underneath his chin as to not let the crumbs fall on his son sleeping in the baby carrier strapped to his chest.

“Forsythe,” Betty corrects him. “But he goes by Jughead.”

“Is that supposed to be better?” Veronica scrunches up her nose, seemingly disapproving of the nickname.

“Do I need to remind you that you named your son Frederick Laurencio Lodge-Andrews?” Betty raises her eyebrow. She loves her godson, but the name is a mouthful.

“It’s a powerful name coming from both of our families. Don’t listen to her, baby.” Veronica gives her a scolding look as she rubs her son’s back, but he just continues to drool against Archie’s chest in his sleep, completely unbothered by the comments on his name. He’ll have plenty of those to deal with in his life.

“And you,” Veronica turns back to Betty, jabbing her in the shoulder, “don’t try to change the topic.”

“I wasn’t,” Betty tries to defend herself. “What even is the topic?”

“Oh, B, don’t play coy.” Veronica rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “The moment I mentioned him, you turned as red as Rudolph’s nose.”

“I did not!” Betty protests, though she knows it’s a lie, cursing her pale complexion for giving away her feelings so easily.

“It’s not a bad thing. When was the last time you knocked the boots with someone?”

“Veronica! There are kids around,” she scolds her, taking a quick look around, relieved there are no kids or parents close enough to hear them. The last thing she needs is for some curious students to ask what knocking boots means or some uptight parents to complain.

“I know.” Veronica rolls her eyes. “That’s why I didn’t say S-E-X.”

Betty lets out a deep sigh, not sure whether she should even bother explaining to her friend that spelling out the word isn’t any better. “It’s not like that between us.”

“Not yet,” Veronica says, pursing her plum colored lips. “Let me guess. You’re pining from afar because you think he wouldn’t like you or because it’s against some sort of work policy or something.”

“Those are good reasons,” Betty says, trying to sound more confident in her words than she is. But she knows Veronica is right and she hates her for it.

“They’re bullsh-” a hard stare from Betty stops her before she can finish the word, “bad reasons and you know it.”

“So what if I have a little innocent crush?” Betty asks, trying to downplay her feelings. “Dating a colleague is not a good idea. I’ve been there and it ended horribly.”

“Just because Trev made it a little awkward for the two of you doesn’t mean it would happen again.”

“It was more than a little awkward,” Archie chimes in, but Veronica nudges him with her elbow to keep quiet.

“He broke down during a lesson and the students had to comfort him. And then he quit. Do you know how many anonymous notes I got from the students, hating me for breaking Mr. Brown’s heart? Too many,” Betty says with a sigh.

It was hardly the only relationship she had that ended in a disaster, but the only one that caused a dozen of twelve year old girls to glare at her for the rest of the school year. Needless to say, it was not a nice experience and she’d rather avoid it in the future. But one look at Jughead makes her want to throw all the precautions away. What’s life without a little risk?

“Okay, okay. He took it badly, but who says this Jughouse guy is the same?” Veronica asks and this time Betty can’t oppose her. She may not know Jughead _that_ well, but he doesn’t seem like the type to cry in class over a broken heart.

“It’s Jughead,” Betty corrects her, but Veronica just waves her hand. “Okay, let’s say I was willing to risk it. I don’t even know if he’s interested. I don’t wanna make a total fool of myself and then have to face him at work every day.”

“Oh, please,” Veronica says with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “Who wouldn’t be interested in you? If Archie didn’t snatch me up first and you weren’t so dreadfully straight, I’d be chasing you down.” She winks, Betty’s cheeks turning red again. Her best friend always knows the best strange compliments to give.

“You know I’m still here, right? And so is our son,” Archie says, sounding offended, but Betty knows it’s just some teasing banter between her best friends.

“Oh, don’t worry my dear Archiekins. You’re my one and only,” Veronica says and presses a kiss to his cheek to emphasize her point. “But I need to remind our dear Betty that she’s a catch and this man would be an idiot to ever turn her down.”

“Veronica…” Betty starts, but Veronica quickly shushes her, clearly not done with her arguments.

“All I’m saying is, there are ways to find out whether he likes you. I can already think of a couple of…” she trails off as Betty lets out a frustrated groan, but doesn’t let herself stop completely. “And if you ever wanna dump him maybe just… wait until the summer holidays?”

“Miss Cooper! Come over here, we want to show you something!” a group of Betty’s pupils yells, waving their hands excitedly, beckoning her to come closer and Betty silently praises them for their timing. While Veronica has made some excellent points, she’s not quite ready for whatever schemes she’s already cooking up in her head.

“I gotta go. The kids are waiting,” Betty says with an innocent smile, even though she’s sure her friends can see right through it.

“This is not over!” Veronica yells after her.

“What is it?” Betty asks expectantly as she finally reaches the group of giggling kids, surprised to see two girls and three boys from her class huddled around Jughead’s stand, exchanging mischievous smirks.

“Good job guys,” he says, giving each kid a high five.

“Wh- What’s going on?” Betty looks at them confused. “What did you want me to see?”

“Nothing,” they say all at once, bursting into another fit of giggles.

Betty raises her eyebrow at Jughead, asking him to explain.

“I… may have asked them to trick you into coming here,” he says, biting the corner of his lip which Betty finds both adorable and sexy. She doesn’t allow herself to get lost in either of those thoughts though, instead eager to find out what Jughead is really up to.

“Are you teaching them to lie?” Betty asks, faux horrified.

“I’m teaching them the power of white lies and how to get a friend out of an uncomfortable situation, right kids?” He asks and the kids nod in unison. Betty’s not sure what he did to make them so compliant, but they seem to be hanging onto his every word. And that… well, that is relatable. “Now that we’ve saved Miss Cooper, you can each take a cookie and go back to your parents.”

With some excited squeals, they all do as told before running away once more as they yell “Bye Miss Cooper” and “Bye Mr. Jones” while waving their hands wildly.

“Lying _and_ bribery? You’re completely ruining their morals, Mr. Jones.” Betty shakes her head with a grin. “I’ll have to spend the rest of the year turning them back into the angels they’re supposed to be.”

“Every angel needs a little bit of devil in them, don’t you think?” Jughead smirks and Betty rolls her eyes at him, but can’t help her own smile from tugging at her lips.

“Maybe.” She shrugs. “But I still don’t know what you were so bravely saving me from.”

“Oh, that.” The blush on Jughead’s cheek matches his Santa hat as he pulls the edges of it over his ears, looking like he wants to hide beneath it. Something she’s seen him do with his own beanie a couple of times. “I thought you looked a little frustrated talking to your friends and I thought… I’m sorry if I overstepped. You can go back to them and tell them what an idiot your co-worker is.”

“No, no, not at all,” Betty says, reaching over to squeeze his arm. She doesn’t want him to feel bad for what’s essentially an act of kindness. One that she quite appreciates. “I was actually quite happy to escape my friend when your little helpers came to rescue me.” She feels a little bad saying this, but she could see the wheels spinning in Veronica’s head and knew it was only a matter of time before she’d find herself in the middle of an elaborate scheme to make Jughead fall in love with her like she’s a heroine of a cheesy Hallmark movie.

“Mind if I ask what she did?” He quirks his eyebrow, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“She’s just… meddling,” Betty says, wondering how much she can tell him without revealing what exactly Veronica was trying to get her to do. “She means well and she’s usually right but… I don’t like people telling me what to do. I like to resolve things on my own terms.”

“I get that.” Jughead nods. “If I do something, even if I end up regretting it, I want it to be because it was my decision and not because I got pushed into it.”

“Exactly!” Betty says, glad someone understands. She loves Veronica, but making her own decisions was a big part of her journey of breaking away from her mother’s grasp. So even if her decision lead do disasters or even if she inevitably does whatever her friend was trying to make her do, she wants it to be because she decided it and not because she wanted to please someone else.

“Well now that you’re here, I don’t wanna push you into any decisions but how about some hot chocolate?” Jughead offers, holding up one of the many mismatched reusable cups she had gathered for this event.

“I’d love that.” Betty smiles, her insides already feeling warm at the thought of the hot chocolate and at least a few minutes spent in Jughead’s presence.

“I’m sad to say though,” he makes a dramatic pause as he looks over the table where the remains of the toppings are spread out, “we’ve run out of the snowman poop.”

“Oh, no!” Betty puts her hand to her chest, pretending to be heartbroken. “I guess I’ll have to settle for some whipped cream and cinnamon.”

“A good choice.” Jughead nods and sets off to prepare the drink for her.

“Would I be corrupting your morals if I asked you to leave your stand and walk around with me for a bit?” Betty asks, biting her lip. “I haven’t had a chance to look around much, but I think it would be nice to take a moment and just admire all the work we’ve put into this.”

“I’ll let you corrupt me any day.” The wink he sends Betty’s way makes her blush and she wonders whether it’s possible he’s flirting or if it’s just Veronica getting in her head. “And I like the idea. It’s not every day that I can say I contributed to something like this. However little I’ve done.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Betty chides. “I felt desperate when Kevin said he couldn’t help me. I couldn’t have done this without you. Not without losing my mind.”

A small smile appears on Jughead’s face. “Okay, let me fix myself a cup and we can go.”

Betty watches him as he pours some peppermint extract into the chocolate before topping it with a heap of whipped cream, some crushed candy canes and a drizzle of caramel syrup. Her teeth hurt just from looking at it, but Jughead grins proudly at his creation and her heart melts quicker than the whipped cream.

“Let’s go!” he says, offering her his arm and she links their elbows before she can talk herself out of it. She feels like she’s back in middle school when her heart skips as soon as their arms touch through two layers of clothing, but pathetic or not, it still feels kinda nice.

They slowly make their way through the crowd, sipping from their mugs as they admire the various things their pupils and fellow teachers have created, from simple Christmas cards through cookies to homemade candles. Betty can’t help the pride that fills her chest as she watches all the different people come together to spread the holiday spirit. The hours spent hanging up decorations and cutting out snowflakes from paper now feel more than worth it.

“Betty, Jughead, come over here,” Fangs, known to students as Mr. Fogarty, the art teacher and leader of the drama club, calls their names, frantically waving them over to his stand. “Take a look at these Christmas decorations the students made. Aren’t they amazing?”

As they walk towards the table, Betty scans her eyes over the various creations. Some of them are simple stars made out of popsicle sticks covered in glitter as you’d expect from elementary school kids, but some of the ornaments are really impressive and Betty feels another surge of pride for the kids.

“Oh, look, this one looks like you, Betts.” Jughead points to a figure of an angel with blonde hair and green eyes.

“That’s true!” Fangs exclaims, holding it up to Betty’s face for comparison. “It looks just like you. Right down to the rosy cheeks. You should totally get it.”

“Let me,” Jughead says, pulling out his wallet before she even has a chance to protest. She’s no angel and the only reason her face has been red pretty much nonstop is her pathetic crush on her co-worker.

“You don’t have to, Jug,” she tries to stop him anyway, but he just shakes his head.

“You gave me a whole box of cookies. Including that special one. I feel like an idiot for not thinking of giving you anything. This feels like a sign. Please, just let me.” The gentle press of his hand against her arm is enough to get her to agree to anything, it seems, as she finds herself nodding without a second thought.

“It’ll look wonderful on your tree. I promise,” Fangs says as he places the tiny figure into a paper bag and hands it to her.

“I’m sure it will.” Jughead beams at her and her stomach does another flutter.

“Miss Cooper, Mr. Jones!” a little girl exclaims, pointing her finger above them. “You’re standing under a mistletoe. You have to kiss!”

They look up at the same time, both looking equally surprised, knowing full well that they didn’t put any mistletoe anywhere as Betty had heard a story from a few years ago where two exes were pressured to kiss under a mistletoe and the whole thing ended up in a disaster with words that were not suitable for kids’ ears being yelled and possibly a fire. Based on whose version she’s going by, of course. She’s sure the story became more and more exaggerated with each person who tells it, but she still didn’t want to take any chances.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to do that,” Betty says, not wanting Jughead to feel pressured, no matter how much she wants to find out how those plump lips of his would feel against hers.

“It's the rule of the mistletoe, Miss Cooper. What kind of example are we setting for the kids if we don't follow the rules?” He grins before leaning closer to her. “If you don’t want to just tell me. I’ll pretend to faint or something,” he whispers, his lips almost brushing her ear and Betty thinks she might be the one to faint.

“No, it’s okay. Let’s do this,” she says, hoping she doesn’t sound too eager as she takes their mugs and sets them aside. Not that she thinks the kiss will be passionate enough to spill their hot chocolate, but one can hope, right?

They stare at each other for a moment, unsure who should take the first step, the bunch of people gawking at them only making it more awkward.

Not being able to take it any longer, Betty stands on the tips of her toes and presses her lips to Jughead’s in a quick soft kiss. It’s innocent enough for the kids’ eyes but her stomach still flutters, her heart beating as if it wants to escape her chest.

He tastes like chocolate, mint and her Christmas cookies and she thinks it may be her new favorite flavor now. She knows how cliché that thought is the moment it crosses her mind, but that doesn’t make it any less true.

The kiss only lasts a few short seconds and she’s not sure if she’s imagining it, but when her eyes flutter open, there is a small smile dancing on Jughead’s lips that makes her want to kiss him again. She might even do it if not for the realization that they’re still standing in a school gym full of people, many of which are still currently staring at them.

Not wanting to give them anything more to look at, Betty quickly pulls away. As she does so, she notices Kevin standing next to Veronica, giving her a thumbs up, while her best friend hands a ten dollar bill to the girl who yelled at them because of the mistletoe. _Traitor._

She hopes Jughead didn’t see that, not wanting him to think this was all some elaborate scheme to get him to kiss her. Even though it probably was, just not lead by her.

It’s Jughead’s voice that brings her back out of her thoughts. “I think I should go back to my stand before people start feeling the hot chocolate deficit,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. The color of his face matches his Santa hat once again and he looks positively flustered. And adorable. If Betty was the one to judge that.

“Oh, of course. People need their hot chocolate,” Betty says with a small smile. Perhaps she should feel offended or at least disappointed that he’s trying to escape her right after their kiss, but she can’t blame him as she herself wishes she had somewhere to hide before her friends inevitably ambush her.

“But I’ll see you later?” The timid way in which he says it makes Betty wonder whether it’s even a question, but she nods anyway.

“Definitely.” She smiles and almost adds a wink to it before stopping herself. No need to scare him any further.

* * *

“You really didn’t have to go out of your way. This town is safe to a boring degree and I lived in New York City, remember? I know self-defense and carry a taser with me,” Betty says with a grin. It’s not that she doesn’t want to spend more time with Jughead. She definitely does. But after they’ve just spent two hours cleaning up after the Christmas market, she doesn’t want him to feel like he has to escort her home when he’s surely as tired as she is.

“Why do you carry a taser if it’s so safe here?” He quirks his eyebrow, but he doesn’t seem to be teasing her. Just curious.

“Old habits die hard, I guess.” Betty shrugs. She does believe that Riverdale is as boring and safe as everyone claims, but she supposes this is not a habit she should break.

“I’m sure that if someone tried to attack us right now, you’d be the one saving me.” Jughead chuckles. “So I know it’s probably not the best excuse I could’ve used to spend more time with you but it’s the most overused one I could come up with on the spot.”

“Oh…” All the air leaves Betty’s lungs at once, her face turning crimson for what must be the millionth time this week. But at least this time she can blame it on the cold evening air.

“You could’ve just said so,” she says, realizing the irony behind her words. Ever since Jughead volunteered to help her with organizing the Christmas market, she’s been looking for tiny excuses to spend time with him. She didn’t _really_ need to check every piece of tinsel he hung up.

“I guess I wasn’t sure you weren’t sick of seeing my face after the last two weeks.”

Betty shakes her head. _Is that what he thinks?_ “Maybe it says something about how lame my life is, but running around the school with you, hanging up decorations or taste tasting cookies was the most fun I’ve had in a while.”

“Well, my life is definitely lame so I’m probably not the best judge here, but I had a lot of fun too.” The little smile he sends her fills her heart with warmth and a tiny bit of courage.

“I know it’s a bit of a short notice but… My friends and I have our annual Christmas party on Christmas Eve and I was wondering if maybe you wanted to join us this year,” she says, the words tumbling out in one breath. “If you don’t have any plans already. Which I’d totally understand. Because, well, it’s Christmas Eve and–”

“I’d love to come,” he says, interrupting her nervous rambling. “But would it be okay if I brought someone?” Betty's heart sinks at his words. _Of course._ Of course he's seeing someone. How could he not? He's handsome, smart, funny. Anyone would be lucky to snatch him up so why did she assume he'd be waiting around for her?

“Uh, yeah, sure, why not,” she replies, trying not to let her disappointment show. It's not like she can say no anyway. Not that she’d want to. She genuinely enjoys spending time with Jughead. Whether it’s a friendship or something more.

“It’s just my sister,” he says, as if reading her mind, and Betty’s chest fills with newfound hope. “She’s coming over to visit for the holidays,” he continues, a small smile spreading on his lips. “We always spend Christmas together but she'd kill me if I turned down a party because of her.”

“I’m not sure how you're imagining this party, but my best friends, Archie and Veronica are bringing their 9 month old son, so we’ll probably spend the evening cuddling him and trying to get him to say his first word, while Kevin and Fangs try to give a tipsy performance of their latest favorite musical.” Betty laughs, remembering the previous year and their drunken rendition of Cats. If she wasn’t completely sober out of solidarity for a very pregnant Veronica, she’d think it was an alcohol induced dream.

“Will there be food?”

“Of course! What kind of Christmas party would it be without food?!” she asks, the hostess inside of her feeling offended.

“Then it's my kind of party.” Jughead grins, lightly nudging her with his elbow. “But I have to warn you. My sister and I have bottomless stomachs.”

“I think I can deal with that.” Betty smiles, excited about how easy it was to get Jughead to agree to come. Even if there is never anything more than friendship between them, she’ll be forever grateful to Kevin for bailing on her. Not that she’ll ever tell him that, of course. No need for him to get even cockier.

“One more thing though,” she says, suddenly remembering an important part of their Christmas party tradition, hoping it’s not too much to change Jughead’s decision to come. “Christmas sweaters are mandatory. The weirder the better. Don’t even think about not wearing one or I won’t let you inside.” She points her finger at him in what she hopes is a threatening gesture.

“You drive a hard bargain, Betts.” Jughead smirks at her, looking impressed. “But I promise I’ll tell my sister to get me one. I’m sure she’ll be delighted to put me in something hideous. It can be my Christmas present for her.”

“Great!” Betty claps her hands in excitement.

As they continue to walk, she tells him a little bit about the food she’s planning to cook for the party and he chastises her for teasing him when Christmas Eve is still three days away.

“I’ll have dreams about your food, Betts. If you find me salivating at your door in the morning because I sleepwalked, it’s your fault,” he says in a dramatic manner, making her giggle.

“I guess I won’t be able to get rid of you once you get a taste, will I?” She asks, biting her lip, wondering whether her double entendre is too obvious or not obvious enough.

“Not even if you try,” he replies, his teasing smirk matching hers.

Only a few steps later they’re in front of her house and for the first time in her life Betty hates that she lives within a walking distance from her work.

“Well, this is my house,” she says as they walk up to her door, even though she’s sure Jughead knows where she lives. It’s a small town after all.

“Looks nice,” Jughead says, pulling on the edges of his hat, he’s back to his usual crown beanie now, the Santa hat discarded back at school, and Betty could swear he looks nervous even though she doesn’t know why.

“Thank you.” She beams up at him, quickly racking her brain for something to say, not ready for a goodbye yet, but not wanting to invite him inside and give him the wrong idea. _Or is it the right idea?_ Besides, she’s so exhausted she can’t wait to crash into bed.

“I know there is no mistletoe here but…” It’s Jughead who breaks the silence, his words making her heart skip a beat. _Is he…_ “Would it be okay if I kissed you?”

His cheeks are an adorable shade of red and Betty barely stops herself from letting out an excited squeal. Instead, she gives him an enthusiastic nod. His shoulders visibly relax, but she can still see a light tremble of his hands as he places them on each side of her face.

He takes a moment to just look into her eyes before sliding his gaze to her lips and the anticipation is killing her. She almost decides to just take things into her own hands and kiss him herself when finally he closes the distance between them, his lips descending on hers.

It starts slowly, softly, but it’s only a moment before the kiss turns more heated, Betty’s arms sliding around his neck and pulling him closer. Any doubts she had about his feelings earlier disappear in an instant as their tongues meet sending a wave of tingles from her lips to the tips of her toes.

She thinks about all the times she shamefully fantasized about this moment, but she never thought it would feel like _this_.

When they finally break apart for air, both of their faces are gleaming with wide smiles and rosy cheeks.

“I’m sorry if I didn’t seem into it earlier. I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long I think my brain short circuited when it actually happened,” Jughead whispers, suddenly looking bashful as he focuses his gaze on the gnome on Betty’s porch rather than at her.

Betty giggles, brushing a strand of hair away from his eyes. “I’ve wanted to do it for a long time too.”

“Really?” He looks back at her, surprised and she nods.

“Really,” she says. “I thought I was being obvious. Too obvious if my friends’ teasing is any indication.” She rolls her eyes as she remembers Kevin and Veronica telling her she should be thanking them for making her mistletoe kiss with Jughead happen instead of berating them. “But I guess not.”

“I can be really thick sometimes. Especially when it comes to thinks like this.” He waves a hand between them. “So to make this perfectly clear, you would like to see more of me? Like this?”

He looks so adorable she just wants to kiss him again. “Yes, definitely,” she says instead, hoping to make it extra clear for him and a wide smile spreads across his face, making the butterflies in her stomach flutter.

But neither her matching grin, nor the excited feeling in her stomach can stop a yawn from breaking through, an unwanted reminder that the world outside of their little bubble still exists and time keeps moving.

“You must be really tired after today. I’m sorry for keeping you from…”

“No,” Betty stops him before he can even finish his sentence. “I mean yes, I’m tired, but I had a lovely time. And I’m glad things happened as they did.”

“Me too,” he whispers, his hand finding hers and locking their fingers. “This is not something I thought I’d ever say but… I’m looking forward to the party. And I promise I’ll wear a Christmas sweater.”

Betty chuckles at that, her mind instantly flooded with the variety of ugly Christmas sweaters she’d like to see on him. “I can’t wait.”

As they stand there quietly for a few seconds, neither of them wanting to be the first one to say goodbye and end the moment between them, a gust of chilly wind blows past them, making Betty shiver and Jughead instinctively wraps his arms around her to warm her up.

“I really should get going,” he says, sounding as disappointed as she feels.

“We’ll see each other soon,” she mumbles against his chest as he gives her one more squeeze before reluctantly pulling away.

“We sure will.” He grins and presses a quick kiss to her cheek. “Goodnight, Miss Cooper.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Jones.” Betty beams at him, giving him a little wave as he slowly backs away from the porch.

Christmas Eve can’t come soon enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this not so little one-shot. Or is it a one-shot? While trying to finish this, I kept getting distracted with ideas for one more part that would be about Betty's Christmas party. So let me know if you'd like to see more and subscribe to the story if you do. I promise I'll write it by the time next Christmas rolls around. I think.
> 
> As always, you can find me on tumblr [@i-know-you-can](https://i-know-you-can.tumblr.com/)


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